


The Road To Loxley

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, Threesome Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-25
Updated: 2010-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-06 16:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Draco will be meeting Severus at a May Eve celebration. It's the first time time they'll see him in many months. Harry reflects and remembers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road To Loxley

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine. Written for fun, not profit.  
> **A/N:** Written as a pinch-hit for hds_beltane in April 2008. The request included: threesome, AU or EWE, Clever/Snarky!Snape, parseltongue, and no Snape/Draco.  
> **Warnings:** AU-ish after HBP (with one small reference to an event in DH, but with a twist), explicit sexual content (threesome) involving two seventeen-year-old participants, some angst, hint of fluff, strong language, parseltongue!kink. Also, this story takes liberties with canon, folklore and real world places and events. The village of Loxley exists, but the festival, to my knowledge, does not.

Only a solitary crow on a fencepost hears the soft pops of Apparition as the two young men suddenly appear in the middle of the moonlit meadow.

"Oh bugger," the first one says, looking down at his trainers.

The other glances downwards too and can't hold back a chuckle when he notices the patch of fresh cow dung his companion has landed in.

"And there I was, Potter, thinking such things only happened to the likes of Longbottom." He waves his wand and spells the pungent mess away. "There."

Harry grins sheepishly. "Thanks, Malfoy."

Draco nods. "Come along now. Severus is waiting for us."

Together, they head in the direction of Loxley, a small village rumoured to be the place where Robin Hood was born.

The reason for this outing, however, has very little to do with legends of altruistic outlaws.

Loxley is one of many places in Britain where groups of pagan Muggles gather on May Eve to celebrate Beltane, and Severus Snape will be meeting Harry and Draco there tonight, by the large bonfire on the village green.

It's the first time they'll see him in many months.

After the war and his supposed death, he went into permanent hiding.

He's as stubborn as he ever was, and mule-headedly refuses to return to Hogwarts, where Harry and Draco are currently completing their education. Even Minerva's solemn promise to keep his continued presence amongst the living a secret didn't persuade him.

He insists that he prefers to 'play dead'. He keeps repeating that his kind wouldn't make for a very good hero.

Harry knows better than to try and reason with the man, but that doesn't change the fact that he misses him more than he's able to express.

At least NEWTs are only a few months--no, weeks--away.

  


  
*****

  
_When the duo first arrives at number 12, Grimmauld Place, Harry is livid._

He yells for the Aurors and tells them that Dumbledore's murderer is standing on the doorstep.

They already know.

Of course they do. They're the ones who summoned him to headquarters in the first place.

Harry is gobsmacked to learn that Snape is a spy--a double agent--and Malfoy...

Draco Malfoy is a spineless git who couldn't bring himself to kill a defenceless old man at the Dark Lord's request.

Still, through some ironic twist of fate, it's precisely that cowardice that might make the difference between a pardon and a few years of incarceration.

If the boy plays his cards right, that is, but Harry has a feeling that he will. And besides, it's not as though Harry can actually fault Malfoy for not killing Dumbledore...

No. He'll reserve all his loathing for Snape instead. He had little qualms about finishing the job.

Even under the Aurors' scrutiny, Malfoy is conveniently ambiguous and seemingly incapable of giving straightforward answers to simple questions.

Moody throws in the towel after twenty minutes when Mrs. Weasley--of all people, Harry thinks--decides that they've all had enough commotion for one day.

Snape returns to the Death Eaters, probably to inform them that his protege has escaped.

Malfoy takes up residence in a guest room.

Over the next few days, Harry makes a point of avoiding the boy. It's all he can do. Well, either that or smash his pointy face in.

Though at the same time, even through his anger, Harry cannot deny that he feels... not pity, exactly, but definitely empathy, as well as a hint of guilt whenever he thinks of Draco.

The confrontation in that bathroom should never have happened the way it did. If things hadn't got so terribly out of hand, then perhaps...

On the third night, Harry enters the kitchen to find a large tray on the table. It contains a bowl of soup, two bread rolls and a large glass of pumpkin juice.

"Would you mind taking that upstairs to Draco, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asks. "The boy hasn't eaten a morsel all day. He's probably too scared to come down, poor thing, and I'd hate to see him starve himself sick."

Harry frowns. It's so like Molly to be concerned about someone who scarcely deserves it.

He'd rather not go up to Malfoy's room, let alone be polite to the wanker, but seeing the tired look in Mrs. Weasley's eyes, he can't bring himself to refuse.

"Why haven't you come down for meals?" Harry asks once he's face to face with Malfoy, who's sitting by the window.

Draco shrugs. "I'm not particularly hungry these days."

"Right." Harry shakes his head. He places the tray on the bedside table. "I'd quit moping about, though, if I were you. You're worrying people, and they've already got more than enough on their plates."

"Moping about?" Malfoy snaps back. "My mother may have been killed already, Potter. The Dark Lord must be furious that I haven't returned. Do you have any idea what he--" And then Draco falls silent, as he realises what he's about to say, and how inappropriate it is to even think it.

"I'm sorry," Harry mutters. "I didn't think your mum would--"

Draco shrugs.

"Just... try to eat something, all right?" Harry says, as he turns to leave.

"All right," Draco mumbles. He rises from his chair. "Thanks," he adds softly.

At the door, Harry turns around. He nods, suddenly very much aware that something between them has changed, just a little.

  
*****

  
It's an unusually chilly night for May.

Harry wraps his cloak tighter around himself.

They're getting closer to the village.

He can already smell the huge bonfire in the distance. It reminds him of Guy Fawkes.

Uncle Vernon never allowed him to join in those festivities, but Harry would sneak out of the house when everyone else had already gone to bed. He'd wander the streets of Little Whinging and soak up the sights and sounds of smouldering fire and people's laughter.

It was the next best thing to actually participating.

He frowns when he sees a figure approaching. It's a woman who looks like she copied Trelawney's distinctive fashion style--if 'style' is indeed the word Harry is looking for.

She nods at them as she continues in the direction of the nearby parking lot.

Harry sighs. He suddenly feels saddened as he considers once more the unfairness of it all.

Snape shouldn't be hiding from anyone, be it rogue Death Eaters who would prefer him dead, or the press who'd have a field day trying to render him immortal with tales of heroic deeds that would only make the man cringe and probably even wish that the snake venom had actually done its job.

A lot of other things aren't fair, either.

All those deaths Harry couldn't prevent. All those wounded whose lives will never be the same again.

Guilt is a terrible thing to live with, and contrary to what the supposed experts say, it doesn't get any better with time. It just digs its claws in deeper, every single day and every time you stop to think about it.

So Harry tries not to think about it.

  
*****

  
_One night, Harry comes back from an unsuccessful Horcrux hunt to find Tonks sitting at the kitchen table, her expression as dark as her hair colour._

"What is it?" he asks.

"Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe died," she says softy. "Their bodies were found in the Forbidden Forest." She shakes her head and lets out a deep sigh. "It looked like Fenrir's handiwork. I guess someone wanted to wring some information out of them, but the boys refused to cooperate, or they simply didn't know anything."

"Oh." Harry knows he shouldn't care how this affects Draco, but he still does, and it's genuine concern that drives him to ask, "How's Malfoy taking it?"

"Not very well."

"No. Right. Of course not."

Harry grits his teeth. Talk about asking a stupid question... He hesitates a beat, before he excuses himself and heads upstairs.

His knock at Malfoy's door is answered by a "Yes". The word holds no emotion.

Shuffling one foot in front of the other, Harry enters the room.

Malfoy is sitting on the unmade single bed. His eyes are red-rimmed and he looks paler than Harry has ever seen him.

"I told them they should get out while they still could, Potter," Draco offers for no apparent reason. Perhaps he just needs to expel this from his system and tell someone, anyone, the first person willing to listen. "I advised them to go to the Ministry, or even to flee the country if they had to. I told all my friends, but they were so convinced that the Dark Lord would..." He shakes his head and runs a pale hand through his hair. "They were punished in my stead, you realise. I wonder how many others are still..." Draco trails off, biting back a sob.

Harry walks towards the bed, sits down and does the first thing that comes to mind, the thing he should have done the first time he saw Draco cry, on that horrible night that still fills him with regret and disgust whenever he looks back on it. Without hesitation, Harry pulls his former rival into his arms.

The boy tenses initially, clearly confused--possibly even suspicious--but he soon relaxes into the hug.

They remain sitting there for what feels like hours.

Harry lifts a hand and rakes his fingers through Draco's soft hair.

The gesture makes Draco cling to him more, and Harry is stunned to realise that he might actually enjoy being this close to Malfoy, provided the circumstances were less painful.

A sudden cough makes the boys jump apart, startled.

They turn around to see Severus Snape standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on his sallow face.

  
*****

  
They have reached the village.

As they make their way through the hustle and bustle of people, no one pays them much attention.

Harry and Draco may be strangers in Loxley, but then so are most of the Muggles there tonight.

Harry glances sideways and spots the amused smile on his companion's face. No doubt Draco will voice his opinions later, loudly and in pompous terms, about those daft Muggles who do believe in witchcraft, or in some variation thereof, and yet they can never tell that real witches and wizards live amongst them, in plain sight but hardly ever seen.

Harry supposes he'd have a point--sort of--and yet he can't help but get caught up in it all.

These celebrations have a magic that's all their own. The air is practically crackling with it.

Harry decides that this is far more fun than Guy Fawkes ever was, and not only because Harry is a participant now rather than an enthusiastic onlooker, but also because the two people who are the most precious to him in the whole wide world will be right by his side tonight to celebrate with him.

  
*****

  
_In the weeks that follow, Harry finds himself spending more time with Snape, be it not exactly by choice._

Harry may have struck up a tentative friendship with Malfoy, but that doesn't mean that he's also willing to let bygones be bygones where the snarky Potions master is concerned.

The greasy-haired git has too much on his conscience--that is, assuming he even possesses one--and part of Harry still hates him for what happened to Dumbledore, even now, after finding out the truth.

Harry's only reason for being in Snape's company is a practical one. Harry's Occlumency skills still need a lot of fine-tuning, and there is no harm in having some extra DADA lessons either.

Draco is keen to join in--it's the first interest he's shown in anything in weeks--but Snape refuses. He is convinced that the boy's talents can be put to better use elsewhere. Besides that, he also doesn't want him anywhere near a battlefield.

"The Dark Lord could easily use your vulnerability against your parents, Draco, and vice versa. The stakes are too high, and it would be best for everyone involved if people continued to believe that you're on the run."

Thus Snape gives Harry private lessons, and they train together, one-on-one, while Draco, who has finally found the will and courage to leave the sanctuary of his room, helps Granger with her research.

The girl may never consider the haughty Slytherin her friend--too much murky water under the bridge--but she does concede that two brains are better than one.

Ron, for his part, remains suspicious. Old feuds die hard.

  
*****

  
As if out of nowhere, a woman, as naked as on the day she was born, suddenly runs past them, shrieking at the top of her voice.

Harry gawps at Draco in shock.

Draco chuckles. "Yes, it's a little chilly to go wandering about skyclad, isn't it?"

"Um, yeah." Harry swallows hard. "They don't expect us to er... strip as well, do they? I mean, in front of everyone?"

Draco lets out a hearty laugh. "No, Potter. I expect disrobing can wait until we're back at Severus' home."

Harry bites his lip and prays that the glow from the bonfire conceals his furious blush.

It doesn't.

*****

_Harry starts to wonder whether all that time spent on horrific, exhausting expeditions is finally messing with his mind. Or has he perhaps fallen prey to some strange variety of cabin fever?_

Lately, he has found himself more and more drawn to Draco Malfoy. The attraction is similar to the one he once he felt for Cho, and later Ginny, though much more intense in comparison.

He can barely be in the same room as Draco without blushing, and he feels as though an army of butterflies takes up residence in his stomach every time the boy smiles at him.

Though, admittedly, Harry would be a lot less worried if the whole thing limited itself to Malfoy.

The thoughts and fantasies he's been entertaining about Severus Snape are even more confusing, and downright disturbing to boot.

Harry is supposed to despise the man--he always has done up until now--not be enthralled by his determination and knowledge, not to mention those dark, mysterious eyes.

What a mess...

It doesn't help matters either that the bastard can read his mind. Literally.

"Mister Potter, kindly concentrate on the task at hand."

Bloody hell! He's doing it again. Harry grits his teeth. Why do his Occlumency skills always desert him at the most embarrassing of times?

He'd probably stand a better chance with Voldemort himself.

"Stop being so pathetically weak." Snape's voice is stern and his dark eyes flash with anger.

Harry clenches his fingers into fists. "Stop calling me that!" he yells. "I. Am. Not. Weak!"

"I'm still waiting for you to prove that to me, Potter."

Jumping up from his chair, Harry strides towards him, determined to fling hexes and insults, anything, whatever it takes to get even, but once he's standing in front of him, he grabs his shoulders and kisses him instead.

Snape kisses him back. It's rough and urgent. Not that Harry expected anything else.

Still, this isn't supposed to happen, not here and now, and certainly not with him, but all Harry's reservations leave him in the very moment he finds himself pressed up against Snape's desk.

Instantly, 'how?' or 'why?' no longer matters.

Harry wants this--needs this--and whatever the consequences, he'll deal with them later.

  
*****

  
The huge bonfire is even more impressive close up.

Young couples dance nearby, many of the girls wearing daisy chains in their hair.

Small children stare in awe. They long to get closer to the fire--Harry can see the eagerness clearly reflected on their faces--but worried parents hold them back. In all their beauty, flickering flames are also dangerous and not safe for kids.

The smell of the burning wood mingles with the aromas wafting from the different take-away stalls set up around the village green.

Stallholders are selling fish and chips, sausage rolls, fried chicken, barley cakes and even ice cream, as well as tea and coffee, ale and soft drinks, something for everyone. The nearby pubs are bustling with activity as well.

Harry looks around, desperate to spot a familiar face in the ever-growing crowd.

There's still no sign of Severus.

"He'll be here, won't he?" Harry asks, sounding every bit as worried as he feels.

"Of course," Draco says, and takes Harry's hand. "He'd never go back on his word."

*****

  
_His 'arrangement' with Snape isn't something Harry ponders about too often._

Like so many things, it was suddenly there, a part of his life, and not much else has changed since.

They still snap at each other during the course of the day, and train as they're expected to.

Perhaps, Harry reasons, this is just a way to get through the war.

Though he only half-believes that himself.

Too easily, he gets attached to people, even those he may not like very much initially, and he always ends up putting them in danger. Sometimes this 'destiny' thing feels more like a curse.

Draco, meanwhile, continues to spend most of his time avoiding everyone, with the sole exception of Hermione Granger, with whom he pores over ancient books, trying to gather as much information about Horcruxes as possible.

The boy still acts distant and aloof, though, and Harry wishes there was something he could do to help. It pains him to see Draco so miserable.

One afternoon when he knows that Hermione and Ron have gone out for groceries, Harry heads up to the room the young man is staying in. He's determined to snap him out of his gloomy thoughts, if only for a little while.

"Do you want to er--play chess or something?"

Draco whips around. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time, Potter?" he asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "In case you've failed to notice, there is a war on."

Harry blinks. Did he misread the signs? Didn't Malfoy and himself become friends somewhere along the way?

"I er--sort of thought I'd take a short break from training," he replies, struggling to keep the confusion out of his voice.

The answer Draco spits out then is like a slap in the face. "Oh, and pray tell, why did you come to me? Can't Snape get it up today?"

Harry's cheeks turn a deep shade of crimson. He all but bolts from the room.

  
*****

  
Anxious, Harry looks around again.

His gaze finally rests on the tall, slim figure slowly walking towards them.

Harry smiles in relief. He'd recognise that nose anywhere.

"Draco," he says, nudging the boy's elbow, and gestures to the silhouette in the nearby distance.

Draco rolls his eyes. "Yes, go on, Potter. You know you want to; before you burst..."

Harry releases Draco's hand, runs towards Severus and flings himself into his arms.

  
*****

  
_"Oh for heaven's sake, Draco! Kindly stop being so unreasonable and immature about this. Isn't it about time you left those petty, pubescent antics behind you?"_

"I'm being unreasonable, am I? You knew how I felt about him, Severus. All these years, you knew, and then at the first chance you got, you.... And he was finally becoming my friend, too. I was just beginning to hope that--Bloody hell, how could you even do this to me?"

Severus shakes his head. "Perhaps you should wake up to the fact that not everything revolves around you, Draco, and whatever it is that Harry Potter and I share, most certainly does not."

"I hate you, Snape," Draco hisses, "You're a vile, selfish bastard, no matter what Mother says."

He storms out of the room and mere seconds later, another door opens.

Harry looks at Snape in question. "What the--?"

"It would appear that you were correct. Mister Malfoy does know of our... little liaison, and does not approve. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that the boy is jealous."

"Jealous?" Harry parrots, barely able to believe his own ears.

"Well, yes. As much would stand to reason, wouldn't it? He's been carrying a torch for you for years."

"He's--what?"

"Oh dear. You didn't know." Severus lets out an exaggerated sigh. "That level of naivete should be illegal, Potter, or at the very least excruciatingly painful."

Harry stares at the door Draco just slammed shut.

He quickly puts on his jacket and shoes and makes for the corridor.

"Where are you going?" Snape demands.

Harry ignores him.

He finds Draco five minutes later in the garden, violently kicking a tree.

Harry's stomach plummets. He cannot deny the affection he feels for this boy, even though the realisation also confuses him.

Is it possible to be in love with two people at the same time?

Last year, when he first told Luna--who was also the first person he told--that he liked boys more than he did girls, she reassured him that true love has no rules, or boundaries.

"You can't choose who you love," she said, "but whoever it is, if he or she loves you back, you're the luckiest person in the whole world."

Harry smiled at her then, but he isn't smiling now.

Nor does he feel particularly fortunate. Malfoy probably hates him all over again.

"Draco," he ventures carefully.

He receives a malicious sneer in response, the likes of which Malfoy hasn't given him in a long time. "Let me guess, you were in there, warming his bed, and you heard everything."

Harry swallows the sudden lump in his throat. "I was er--just reading in there, actually, but yeah, I heard what you and Severus spoke about."

Draco's shrug is a bit too casual to be even remotely convincing. "Not to worry," he says, "I'm used to not winning every time you're involved. Losing to Severus is something of a novelty, however. Still, I expect I'll get used to that as well in time."

Harry takes a few hesitant steps forward. "Draco, I--"

"Yes, Potter. Was there something else?"

Harry swallows hard, and gathers all his courage. "What if I were to tell you that I fancy you both?"

  
*****

  
"Really, Mister Potter, must you always insist on making such an exhibition of yourself?"

The words are uttered in the usual cynical, possibly even condescending manner, but there is also a hint of softness to the man's tone that gives him away.

Snape is as pleased about this reunion as Harry and Draco are. It's just not the sort of weakness he'd willingly admit to.

"Good evening, Severus," Draco says with a small smile. "Nice to see you again, too. You're looking well."

  
*****

  
_ Snape's eyes are wide and his eyebrows are almost at his hairline. "You're not honestly suggesting that we attempt some kind of... triad? Draco would never go for it, you realise. I can hear it now: 'Malfoys do not share'."_

Harry shakes his head and grins. "That's where you're wrong. This was all his idea, actually."

Severus blinks. "His idea?"

"I told him that I'm in love with you both, which I, er-am, and he said..."

"I told him that Malfoys are perfectly willing to share if the other party is worthy," Draco supplies as he steps into the room.

Snape sneers at him. "How long have you been listening at the door?"

Draco sneers right back. "A while."

They both turn to look at Harry, who's nervously biting his lip.

Severus is the first to speak. "Draco is like a son to me, Harry. Granted, an irritating brat who often has me wondering which ponce his mother was shagging at the time, but a son all the same. I couldn't possibly"--he hesitates, clearly not very comfortable with the subject--"do with him what I do with you."

"I don't expect you to," Harry says.

"Nor is it my intention," Draco cuts in. "I was merely suggesting Harry see us both."

Snape looks from Harry to Draco and then back again, twice, before he lets out a resigned sigh. "Oh very well. I might as well give in, if only to save myself needless strife. Neither of you insufferable brats will rest before he has exactly what he wants."

Harry and Draco look at one another and grin.

*****

  
Harry takes a step backwards and watches with a smile as Draco pulls Severus into a heartfelt hug.

He has noticed that his lovers--or should that be 'partners'? He definitely prefers the latter--have become closer in recent months. Perhaps some truth is to be found in that tired old saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Severus and Draco might not have the same passion for each other as they do for him, but camaraderie, mutual respect and another kind of fondness should be enough to keep them together.

That, and how they both feel about Harry.

"So," Draco says conversationally. "I'm quite curious about these new Muggle dwellings of yours, Severus. Care to give us a tour of the place?"

"Of course," he replies. "We can Apparate behind that church over there."

"Er, I'd like to stay here," Harry cuts in, "just for a little while, if you two don't mind." He gestures towards the fire. "Maybe we could watch for a bit?"

Severus and Draco look at one another and shrug.

  
*****

  
_Harry takes a deep, calming breath._

He still has trouble believing that this is really happening and that Draco and Severus actually agreed to it.

He has never been part of a threesome before.

Well, he barely has any sexual experience to speak of.

That time in Snape's office, the one they privately refer to as 'the Occlumency incident', was his first, and there have been a few more occasions after that, and two evenings where he and Draco...

He swallows hard.

"Roll onto your side," Severus instructs softly.

Harry does, and grits his teeth as a long slicked finger enters him and is soon joined by a second.

The sensation is always a bit uncomfortable in the beginning, but Harry knows now that it'll get better--much better--soon, especially once those skilled fingers have been replaced by something else.

Harry groans. His breath hitches. It's getting better already...

"First things first," Severus says, pulling his hand back.

"Right," Harry whispers. "Draco?"

The boy sitting at the foot of the bed nods. He scoots closer and lies down next to Harry, his back turned to him.

Harry reaches for the small jar of lube next to the pillow. He liberally coats his fingers and his cock with the cool substance.

"You're all right with this, aren't you, Draco?" he asks carefully, and not for the first time that day.

The last thing Harry wants is to hurt the boy. The two previous times, Draco had been the one to shag him. The other way around will be a first, too.

"Yes, of course. I wouldn't have agreed to this otherwise. Stop fretting, would you?" He gives an awkward chuckle. "You're starting to make me nervous."

"Okay." Harry inhales sharply. "Sorry." He kisses the back of Draco's neck and reaches down a hand to carefully prepare him.

One finger, then two, then three, just as Severus taught him, and then crook one finger and push it deeper, just like that, and...

Emitting a deep, guttural moan, Draco arches forward.

Harry smiles. "Still all right, I take it?"

"Yes, Potter," Draco replies, sounding a little breathless. "Now can we please get on?"

Harry grins. "Don't you mean get it on, Malfoy?"

He wants to say more, but in that very moment Severus' fingers slide into him again and then out, and a second time, slowly, before they come to rest on Harry's bottom.

Harry's head is reeling.

This is really happening...

"Hang on a sec," he says, his voice hoarse.

Harry withdraws his fingers, wraps an arm around Draco's waist and pulls him closer, until Harry's erection is pressed tightly against the boy's rear.

"I'm going to shag you now," Harry whispers.

"All right," Draco whispers back, his tone anxious.

Harry carefully pushes himself inside, thankful that he was generous with the lube. Draco's hole is tighter than he expected, and also incredibly warm.

Harry forces himself to focus and to calm down--now--before he gives into his strong, sudden urge to thrust fast and hard into that tight heat.

Severus pushes two fingers back into Harry's entrance.

Harry moans.

Draco moans with him and grabs Harry's hand, the one that's resting on his stomach, and guides it to his cock.

Harry slowly begins to stroke, in time with his own thrusts and matching the steady rhythm of Severus' fingers.

Harry never imagined that anything in the world could ever feel this incredible. He's more aroused than he has ever been in his life.

He gasps out the first thing that comes to mind, the first coherent thought he can force past his lips.

Somehow, it ends up a hiss.

Draco gasps. "Oh fuck! Harry! Guh!"

Harry blinks, but Snape lets out a wicked chuckle. "A Parseltongue kink, Draco? How... unique."

"A Parsel--What?" Harry pauses, just for a moment, but soon grins mischievously. "Like it when I talk like this, do you, Malfoy?" he whispers against Draco's hair and then repeats the question in Parseltongue.

The groan he receives is all the answer he needs.

Feeling quite smug at his discovery, Harry kisses a sensitive spot under Draco's right ear, before whispering something else in the snake language.

The words have Draco shuddering against him. "Merlin, Potter! Quit teasing me."

Harry starts pumping Draco's cock more vigorously and continues to thrust, faster and harder than before, but not too fast, not yet...

He wants Draco to come first.

One more hiss from Harry, and Draco lets out a broken sob. "Oh fuck," he manages, "oh fuck, Harry," before climaxing hard, all over Harry's hand and onto the sheets beneath them.

Harry bites his lip. He's close, too--so bloody close--but he wants more than just Severus' fingers inside him.

He stops moving, and glances over his shoulder. "Er--could we?"

Severus nods. He pulls his hand back and says in a tone that's rather commanding given the circumstances, "Get on all fours, Potter."

"All right." Harry doesn't think to question him, let alone protest. He knows that the man likes to take charge in everything he does. Sex is no exception.

Besides, Harry is still hard, painfully so, and that's definitely something that needs dealing with as soon as possible.

Harry kisses Draco's shoulder and carefully slips out of him. Then he gets on his hands and knees, and grabs hold of the headboard.

Draco rolls onto his back. He watches through lidded eyes as Severus positions himself behind Harry.

Soon the two men start to move, back and forth, fast and hard, the bed creaking loudly beneath them.

Thank the gods for muffling charms.

Draco reaches out a hand and grabs Harry's wrist. He doesn't quite know why he does. Perhaps he wants to feel connected and be more than just a simple spectator.

One particularly hard thrust, and Harry throws his head back, grunting as he flies over the edge. The sound makes Draco's spent cock twitch.

Severus follows soon after. He's surprisingly silent as his face contorts with pleasure.

He kisses Harry's shoulder blade--a gesture of affection Draco never expected to see--and rises to his feet. The crack of his knees is unnervingly loud in the now almost quiet room.

Without a word, Severus walks to the bathroom.

Draco stifles a yawn. "Is he off already?"

Harry shrugs. He moves into a sitting position and replies, "He always does that right after we've--Not much of a snuggler, I guess." Harry tries to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but fails spectacularly.

Draco looks thoughtful. "Well, I suppose this must be the first relationship he's had in a very long time--for as long as I've known him at the very least. I don't think affection is something he's used to. You should probably give him some time."

Harry bites his lip and looks at Draco. Funny, he thinks, how there was so much jealousy and rivalry before. Now there's only... could this be love?

Draco shakes his head and smiles. "Come here, Potter. You can snuggle with me; only for a few minutes, mind. I badly need a shower. I'm sticky as all hell, and so are you."

Harry grins. He lies down and rests his head against Draco's chest. Long pale fingers gently ruffle his hair, and he feels a sense of peace he hasn't experienced in a long time; one he never would have thought possible amidst the devastation and turmoil of this terrible war.

  
*****

  
Standing in between Severus and Draco, and gazing into the orange flames, Harry is overcome with warmth that he's sure has nothing to do with the luminous bonfire.

Voldemort is gone, the war is over, and the three of them are still here.

They've survived, against odds that so often seemed overwhelming.

Harry smiles.

He has finally found his sense of direction. He knows who he is now, and where and with whom he belongs.

For the first time in his life, the future makes sense.

And it beckons.


End file.
